He never even made a cup of tea

Not a day for going out for tea
Nor chatting with some vigor on the phone.
Rain falls, variegated as green sea;
And dark earth takes it with a sighing moan.

 

Not a word from him whom I did love
Nor picture,image photograph or mail.
No cooing from a kindly turtle dove;
Just pain that feels some kinship with a nail.

 

Not thinking now nor feeling in my heart;
Not hoping,longing,wishing for his touch.
His last words hit me like a poisoned dart.
Now always I must keep far from his clutch.

Not tea nor even coffee did he brew
That has taught me more than I once knew

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About Katherine

I like poetry and history
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